Warning: Mildly citrus, not quite a true lemon, but getting there. m/m
Ranma Rex
For seven generations the Clan of Saotome had ruled, with iron fist and savage will.
The Stallion was the latest of this line, a fiery young man with eyes of hard flashing sapphire and jet black hair which reached to the small of his back when worn loose. His warring skills were well known even to the most vague reaches of the land, and he tolerated no dissension in his people or holdings. Though his edge was hard and temper brutally swift, Ranma Saotome was looked upon with great favor and love by those he ruled, for he had brought them out of the dark tyranny of his father’s rule, disposing of the former Emperor in a swift and just battle to the death as soon as he had reached the proper age of fifteen.
Within ten years, young Saotome-sama turned the entire Empire away from the brink of dark ruin, fought Her enemies back and conquered their weakened lands in retaliation, and firmly established himself as more than a mere Emperor. It was said that the Stallion was a force of Nature more than a man, the Son of Wind and Fire. Under his patriarchal attention, all of Japan prospered, and no man ever dared to bring challenge to the powerful and rightful Emperor of Nihon.
The Empire of the Sun came first and foremost to the young ruler, but when the time came to put the day’s work aside, all knew better than to disturb Ranma-sama in his recreation. For those who spoke out against their Emperor’s choice of leisure-time activities, punishment was swift and brutal. The Stallion was tolerant of much, but could not abide narrow-minded prejudice. As long as his three wives were successful in producing heirs for the throne, which they were, then it should make no difference to the common folk how the Emperor chose to spend his free time.
Or who he chose to spend it with.
The Emperor stepped into his private chambers, after giving one final order to a small group of advisors who stood just outside, determined to get as much of his time as they possibly could. Dismissing them abruptly by sliding the door shut, Ranma-sama grimaced to himself as he loosened the top layer of his ornate uniform of state. He turned towards the room, a scowl set firmly on his face.
Soft lighting from flickering multi-colored lanterns greeted him, casting surreal over the familiar trappings of his chamber. It was broken into sections by lush draping silks, and his changing area was staged in the first alcove. He removed his armor, being sure that it was carefully stored into its proper place, and slipped out of the clothes he wore beneath the heavy piece of protection. A full length mirror, set into a heavy ornately wrought frame, reflected the ruler’s young firm body. His was truly the form of a fighter, slender yet strong and well-sculpted, each muscle defined properly, showing a potential for speed and power with every movement beneath his flesh.
Ranma-sama chose a long loose robe of dark blue from the many available to him, swirling it into place around his shoulders. The material was soft and felt good against his skin. Relishing the sensation and the private moment, the Emperor stood before the mirror and watched himself as he slowly unwound the thick braid of hair that he normally kept wrapped around the back of his head. His slender skilled fingers worked at the braid idly until his hair hung loose and free.
He sensed more than heard the movement behind him, and saw a flickering image in the mirror behind his own reflection. With a slight smile, Ranma-sama reached over to the fancy table which held his toiletries and selected a stiff brush. He held it up and glanced over his right shoulder, azure eyes catching the glow from a blue lantern overhead.
Delicate sure fingers wrapped around his for a brief moment, as the woman who came up behind him took the brush. Her own long dark hair was flowing over her shoulders, demurely covering the muted shapes of her breasts. She wore a long loose nearly transparent wrap of silky indigo. A beautiful and sweet smile on her face, she blinked once and began to brush the kinks from his long shimmering black hair.
Ranma-sama turned his eyes back to the mirror, so that he could fondly watch her movements. She was his first and highest wife, married to him when he was but five years old, and in the nearly twenty years he had known her, she had grown from a rebellious and tomboyish child into a graceful sensuous woman. Of his three wives, she was his favorite and the only one he allowed to step foot in his private chamber without prior summoning. Though he loved her, it was not a passionate feeling. That he reserved for one soul only. His love for Ukyo was more of a partnership, the love one had for a sister and close companion.
The Empress understood that, and accepted it gratefully. She had not asked to be married to the Stallion, and was pleased that they had an understanding. Her love for him was much the same as his, and she had her own interests as well, beyond him. But no matter what else was happening, she did her best to see him at least once a day, however brief their meeting. She brought him the news of his family, keeping him in touch with those he cared about, least he forget them under the pressure of his other obligations to people and Empire.
"Ukemi?" he asked in a low tone as she continued to brush his hair.
Ukyo smiled purringly. "Your daughter is well. You will be pleased at how she has progressed in her training, though I think your General is a little too indulgent of her mistakes. He lets her get away with a great deal out of his love for her."
"I’ll speak to him about it," Ranma-sama chuckled lightly. "And I will come to see her tomorrow."
The Empress looked pleased. "I will have her ready to greet you, Ranma-sama."
"How does Akane fair?"
Ukyo gently worked through a snarl with her elegant fingers. "Very well, Husband. Her time will be soon, and the prophets are predicting another son for you."
The young ruler snorted derisively. "They predicted that Ukemi would be a boy as well. Ignorant fools."
"They weren’t too far off in their prediction," Ukyo pointed out. "She acts more like a boy than a girl."
Ranma-sama smirked. "I have the feeling that she gets that from her mother."
Ukyo smiled as well, a light blush coloring her fair face. She straightened and peeked over his shoulder, gazing at their reflection in the mirror. Drawing her fingers lightly through his hair, she arranged his bangs and forelocks.
"Tomorrow I would also see Akane," Ranma-sama decided, taking the brush from her hand. "In fact, I would like to see all three of my wives and my children. Gather everyone for mid-day meal and we will spend the afternoon together." He turned and grasped her hands, a twinkle in his eyes.
"That sounds lovely," Ukyo smiled up at him. "Shan Pu will be pleased as well. Shall I see to it that your General is present?"
"I will see to that," the Emperor assured. He leaned down and kissed her softly, their lips meeting for but a brief moment before he pulled back. "Go on, now," he ordered softly. "Good night."
"Good night, Husband," she nodded, then slipped away, sliding through the drapes of silk like a gentle mist, barely disturbing them as she went. Ranma-sama looked after her for a moment, a content expression on his strong face. She sympathized with him, accepted him, and he was more grateful for that then he could ever say. His other two wives, Akane and the Amazon warrioress Shan Pu, were not quite as understanding, though they knew better than to voice any displeasure in his presence.
For a female of the noble Tendo Clan, Akane was rather hard and opinionated, a trait that the Emperor did not particularly care for, but his marriage to her had been arranged as well, so he did not begrudge her feelings of dissatisfaction. He was well aware that she found her gratification outside their marriage in much the same way Ukyo did, and in fact, the two women often kept company with each other. Akane had so far given the Emperor a beautiful shy daughter, and hoped the child she now carried would be a son.
Shan Pu was different. He had won her hand through victory in war against her people. One of the few times in his life that the Stallion had ever been sexually attracted to a member of the opposite gender, he had immediately set out to conquer the Amazon demoness in the same way that he had conquered her land, through force and strength of will. That she, in turn, fought him every step of the way was immensely stimulating, and their marriage was one of constant challenge and battle that they both enjoyed a great deal.
She had already supplied him with two sons, twin boys who were exact copies of their father save for their amethyst eyes. They were toddling now, just starting to become interesting in Ranma-sama’s opinion, for now they were developing a taste for fighting and weaponry. They were often in the company of their older half-sister as she went about her training, under the watchful and loving care of the Emperor’s closest and most trusted General. It was he that raised the children more than their mothers, and he that was giving them a good solid start in the Art.
And it was he to whom Ranma-sama’s heart truly belonged.
Checking his reflection in the mirror one last time, the Son of Wind and Fire turned and pushed his way carefully through the silk drapes, moving deeper into his chambers. Far within, where the lantern lights only dimly penetrated, and soft music could be heard from the distant musicians at court, a low large futon rested, surrounded by clouds of darkly colored drapes. As the Emperor approached his bed, he heard the soft movement of a body against the bedclothes, and the lazy sound of a light sigh. Ranma-sama slowly lifted his hand and drew the curtains aside, peering into that warm dark alcove with a glimmer of love and anticipation in his eyes.
"Ran-sama," came the low sound of a caressing voice. A slim but well-muscled body rolled in the bed, arms stretched out over his head, nearly bare torso long and looking like satin under the low lighting.
The young man was almost the same age as the Emperor, perhaps a little older. Ranma-sama did not know, as he had never really asked. Nearly fifteen previously, he had been brought to the ruler as a gift from the Clan of Hibiki nobles, their youngest son. As young as he had been at the time, Ranma-sama had recognized the gift as what it truly was, an attempt by the family to be rid of the son who showed little in the way of promise or future. For such an insult not only to himself, but to the boy as well, Ranma-sama had wiped the family from the face of the land and released the boy into the military, intending to give the matter no further thought.
However, only a year or so after he ascended to the rule, Ranma-sama was surprised to come across that boy again. He had worked his way up through the ranks of the Imperial Army, through blood and fang, to firmly establish himself as a force to be reckoned with. Proud, determined and just a bit feral, Ryoga Hibiki had attracted the eye of the Emperor’s second wife, Akane, and she had been seeing him secretly for quite some time. In fact, it was whispered in court that Akane’s pretty little daughter had been sired by that strong soldier. That in itself did not especially bother Ranma-sama, he loved delicate Akarui regardless and he allowed the affair to continue for Akane’s sake. However, he was rather disconcerted to find that he lost a great deal of attention to the boy whenever he was around, and thought about him constantly when he was not. And what was even more unnerving, it seemed that the boy tried to cross paths with the Emperor whenever he possibly could.
Ryoga Hibiki was beautiful, and that was said of him by everyone from the royal family down to the most lowly commoner. Through his extensive military training, the young man had developed an almost perfect body and a grace that was unequaled in any man. He moved like a hunter, slowly and surely, with a precise flow that was almost impossible to describe. Long dark hair and heavy bangs shadowed his equally dark eyes and perfect slender face like spilled ink. He was a very quiet and serious person, one who rarely smiled, and was all the more enticing for his brooding qualities. He showed passion in only two things. The first was battle, which was his first affection and greatest forte. In the name of his ruler, Hibiki conquered foreign lands and fought impossible battles, emerging victorious without fail. As word of his prowess spread, the entire Empire began to refer to him as -the- General, highest of all the officers in the military. Within the walls of the Imperial Palace, he was called the Emperor’s General.
Hibiki’s second, and far stronger passion, was love for his Emperor. That mania was a rolling river which ran deep in his soul, and had been present since the day he had been bestowed to Ranma-sama as a child. When the point came that the Emperor could no longer resist the appeal of the dark warrior, Hibiki was only too willing to submit to him. Though Ranma-sama had set him free, the young man never stopped thinking of him as his Master. So when Ranma-sama asked that the soldier give him his heart and soul, Ryoga Hibiki did so without hesitation.
Though Master of the Known World, with three wives of unparalleled beauty to his credit, Ranma Saotome had not realized how completely empty he was until that first impossibly perfect night that he took the boy to his bed. He relived that feeling of synergy every evening when he arrived in his chambers to find Ryoga waiting for him. It was far more precious to him than a thousand victories.
For all his perfection, the young General did have a rather annoying fault. He had a tendency to lose his way easily, and it was this affliction that had led to the Hibiki Clan’s desire to be rid of him. When properly focused in battle, Ryoga was unequaled, but within the relaxed walls of the Palace, he could often be found wandering rather aimlessly. Despite his love, the Emperor was neither a patient man nor very tolerant of fault, so it was deemed necessary that Hibiki be watched closely. Both Ukyo and Akane took it upon themselves to play guardian to the directionally-challenged warrior. Either one or the other, and usually both, knew exactly where the General was at all times.
It was the daily late evening custom that, after he had put in his time with the troops, had given the children their training, seen them fed and sent off to sleep, Ukyo would spirit Ryoga into Ranma-sama’s chambers and secure him firmly to the bed so that he wouldn’t be able to wander away before the Emperor retired. To this end, the General habitually wore strong metal rings on his neck-plate and forearm bracers. These, Ukyo attached to chains set into the frame of the futon, thus ensuring that Ryoga be present whenever the Emperor wanted him. Ranma-sama knew of this arrangement, but said nothing of it. It pleased him that his loved ones went to such lengths to make him happy, and whenever he saw Ryoga wearing his custom armor pieces, it made him smile privately. The rings were treated by everyone as symbols of the General’s enviable position and Ryoga seemed rather proud of them.
As Ranma-sama looked down at his lover now, he let his eyes follow the lovely gold chains that ran from the young man’s wrists and neck to the frame of the bed. Ryoga was beautiful, laying strikingly against the darkly colored bed clothes, his slender perfect body standing out in contrast. He wore drapes of black and dark green, a color that looked superb on his tanned body, and the tightly fitting leather pants that Ranma-sama so loved. The Emperor smiled as those dark earthen brown eyes fluttered open, and Ryoga stretched once again, his body lengthening slowly and sensuously as he rolled against the bed. This sight alone was the young ruler’s most favorite meal, and could sustain him like nothing else could.
"Ryo-kun," he answered the young man’s earlier greeting. Kneeling beside Ryoga on the low cushioned mattress, Ranma-sama leaned down and kissed him. The General’s mouth was warm and inviting, as always, and he responded immediately, returning the kiss, pressing his tongue against the Emperor’s lips and forcing his way into Ranma-sama’s mouth.
The Stallion’s long black hair fell around them like a curtain, gently stroking along the length of Ryoga’s torso as Ranma-sama allowed the kiss. He loved it when Ryoga sought to please him, worked to make him happy, and then submitted willfully to whatever the Emperor wanted. Sometimes Ranma-sama would take him just as he was, chained to the bed. Other times, the young ruler would escort his lover out into the star-lit gardens, or to the baths. Tonight, however, he wanted Ryoga here, loose and mobile, but within the warm confines of his own chambers. Breaking the kiss, he reached over to undo the clasps which held the chains to Ryoga’s rings, running his fingers lovingly along the young man’s smooth skin as he did.
There was worship and adoration in Ryoga’s dark eyes as he gazed up at his Emperor. Ranma-sama sat back on his heels and pulled the young man up, grasping him by the left wrist. "Tonight," the Emperor said quietly, looking down at his plaything. "Tonight I am going to make love to you slowly. I want it to last until dawn."
"Hai, Ran-sama," Ryoga replied, a warm blush spreading over his entire body. He reached up and buried his fingers in the Emperor’s soft hair, never breaking eye contact. The darkness of the room wrapped around the two young men like a close comforting shroud, and in Ryoga’s abyssal eyes, the Emperor easily lost himself, forgetting who he really was, and the awesome weight of his responsibilities.
"As always," the General purred, "I am yours, to do with as you wish."
Ranma-sama drew the young man into his strong embrace, seeking another kiss that was gladly given. Ryoga’s hands wandered skillfully beneath the folds of the Emperor’s loose robe, fingers dancing over the places he knew to be the most sensitive. His touch was electric, sending delightful shivers down Ranma-sama’s spine, lighting him up all over like festive fireworks. Though his heated romps with Shan Pu had come very close, only Ryoga had ever been able to inspire such immediate desire in the Emperor. He alone seemed to know and understand exactly what Ranma-sama wanted from one moment to the next, and thought nothing of himself as he strived to please his Master.
The Ruler of Nihon smiled at the sensation of Ryoga’s fingers, and moved to straddle his young lover, pressing him once again into the softness of the bed. Hibiki arched his back, knowing that Ranma-sama enjoyed watching how he moved, and was rewarded by a sparkle of interest and heat in the Emperor’s gem-like eyes. They came together for another kiss, this one deep and penetrating, as Ranma-sama supported the warrior’s back with his strong hands, and Ryoga laced his arms around his Master’s neck, pulling himself up to receive the attention. The warmth between them grew steadily as they played with each other’s tongues, as Ranma-sama felt the careful nip of Ryoga’s elongated canines, as they each probed the depths of the other’s mouth.
^~^~^~^~^~^
"Ranma?"
^~^~^~^~^~^
The Emperor lowered Ryoga to the bed once more, pinning him down firmly so that he could . . .
^~^~^~^~^~^
"Ranma!"
^~^~^~^~^~^
. . . could run his tongue down the warrior’s silky flesh, kneading the well-defined muscles of his arms with strong sure fingers. Ryoga moved fluidly beneath him, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, purring softly with the wonderful feel of it all . . .
^~^~^~^~^~^
"Ranma Saotome! Pay attention when I’m talking to you!"
Ranma jerked himself out of the writing trance he had so easily drifted into, just in time to avoid the fall of Akane’s Mallet-sama. He rolled out of the way as the heavy wooden weapon smashed apart the desk he’d been sitting at. Sheets of paper and writing utensils went flying in all directions, and Ranma landed with a soft *oof!* on his rear.
"Akane!" he grimaced, glaring up at the pissed-off girl. "What’d you do that for?!"
She drew her lips into an angry pucker, resting the mallet over her shoulder and tucking one fist onto a hip. "I’ve been calling you for fifteen minutes, baka! Kasumi says that dinner is almost ready."
"Well cripes, did you have to destroy my desk?" Ranma picked himself up off the floor, looking with dismay at all the papers now laying everywhere about the room. With a sigh of disgust, the pig tailed martial artist stooped down to gather some of them. After watching him for a moment Akane returned her mallet to hammer-space and knelt down to help him.
She blinked at the first page she picked up, reading the title. "_Ranma Rex_? What’s this?"
Blushing furiously, Ranma snatched the page out of her hand. "Gimee that! Its nothing! Just an assignment for my Creative Writing class."
Akane smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. "I see. Pretending to be a dinosaur, are you?"
He looked blankly at her for a moment. "What? No! This ain’t a story about dinosaurs. Rex is Latin for ‘king’, the assignment was for us to write what the world would be like if we were king, or Emperor, or whatever."
"Interesting," she stood, brushing the dust off her skirt. "I can just imagine the chaos that would reign if you were in charge, baka." With a pert little smile, she turned and headed out the door. "Sorry about your desk, but it is almost dinnertime. See you downstairs."
Continuing to gather his papers, Ranma grumbled under his breath, something rather insulting concerning tomboys and how uncute they were. Once he had an armload, he sat back on the floor with a soft sigh of weariness.
"Who the hell am I kidding?" he muttered unhappily to himself, glancing down at his scrawled hand-written characters which seemed to cover every available inch of each sheet. Slowly, he laid the pages down and began to re-organize them, putting them in proper order.
"I can’t turn this in, my instructor would have an aneurysm." He picked out Ryoga’s name in the midst of the story, and ran a finger over the characters, smudging the ink just slightly. A frown settled onto his face.
"I guess maybe I -am- a pervert after all . . . " Ranma said quietly. He glanced at the wastebasket, knowing that the healthiest thing he could do would be to chuck the entire mess and never think about it again, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he neatly straightened the pages and hid them away in one of his school folders.
As he began to pick up the broken pieces of the desk, a small noise at the door caught his attention. He looked up. Akane had left the screen open when she left, and now a little black piglet sat in the doorway, gazing at Ranma and the remains of the desk speculatively.
"Bwee?" he squeaked, tipping his head to one side.
Though there was no way the pig could have known what he was writing, Ranma blushed furiously just the same, finding the animal’s presence violently uncomfortable. "What the hell you looking at?!" he yelped, and grabbed a handful of pencils to throw at the doorway. He watched with only vague unsettled satisfaction as the piglet tore off down the hall, making angry noises.
Ranma drew in a long low breath and settled even closer to the floor. With sadness reflecting plainly in his deep sapphire eyes, he ran a hand through his hair.
"I’m sorry, Ryoga," he whispered.
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